


Drawing a blank

by musings_and_daydreams



Series: Drawing a Blank [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 21:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11859957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musings_and_daydreams/pseuds/musings_and_daydreams
Summary: Based off the prompt "Imagine Loki finding you buried under rubble in the Battle of New York as you are dying. Loki heals you and you fall for him, but he erases all of your memories of him."





	Drawing a blank

You can’t really remember how you got here, under the rubble. It had been just another day at the office, then BAM, nothing. You suddenly went from filing paperwork on the fourth floor where they kept old files to being trapped under what was left of what used to be the company you worked for. There were no cool special effects or slow motion falling. There was a ringing in your ears, but that only came after the fact and it wasn’t nearly as dull of a sound like the movies had made it seem. And everything _hurt_.

There was probably good twenty feet of rubble above your head, if not more and you couldn’t see any light, so fresh air was probably going to be out of the question very soon. Probably too soon for anyone to find you. You breathed in deep, calming yourself before assessing the damage that had been done to your body by the collapse. In the dim atmosphere of the small air pocket, you couldn’t really see much. So you had to rely on your senses of touch and smell. A large piece of a wall had landed on your body in the aftermath and you skimmed down your body where you were trapped, crying out in a horrible amount of pain as you found a section of wire that had rammed through your torso. Tears spilled down your cheeks and onto the dusty floor of the air pocket. At least the wire was stopping your insides from leaking to the outside world. But you were bleeding somewhere, you could smell it. There was that rusty tang of iron that permeated the air surround you and you were certain that it wasn’t all from the wires. After slumping to the floor in defeat, you found you were bleeding from a gash on your forehead which had now let loose a stream of blood down the side of your head.

 _Stay calm_ , you told yourself, _Hyperventilating and yelling will only waste what air there is._ You wanted them to find you alive, but that was looking like a less and less possible option as time ticked on. _Sleep,_ you thought, _Sleep will slow my heart rate and oxygen in-take._ But you soon realized that wasn’t really an option either. Each breath you took dragged the edge of your wounded skin up and down the wire, making a white hot pain shoot through your body with any movement you made. And you were slowly losing feeling to your outer extremities as well. So you settled for closing your eyes and curling your hands in and out to keep the blood circulating in your arms, curling your toes you found to be impossible in the shoes you had worn to work this morning and it was unimaginably painful.

You weren’t sure how long you had been down here under the building. But you listened hard for something- anything that might be going on at the surface. It was getting difficult to breathe now and you had lost all feeling from your waist down. Unconscious was next, you were sure of it. You were going to die down here. It defiantly wasn’t the way you thought you’d go. You had thought maybe a subway accident or a mugging gone wrong, this was New York after all and you often found yourself in the wrong side of the city. Or maybe- _Wait. What was that??_ Something above you was moving.

Whoever was on top was digging their way through the rubble. Were they looking for survivors? You prayed to every god you knew about that they were. They were only a few feet above you, dust trickling down as the rubble shifted with the weight change. Then suddenly there was the smallest of holes created about five feet from your near lifeless body. Sure, you couldn’t see it, it was blocked by several large pieces of wall. But you could finally breathe, coughing as you choose to gulp lung-fulls of mildly fresh air instead of worrying about your wounds. And there were voices! Muddled and far away, but there were voices.

“Your efforts are wasted brother!” a voice boomed through the darkness. “No mortal could live through this destruction you’ve caused!”

“If you recall, Sigyn wasn’t a mortal you fool!” Another voice retorted back, sounding on the edge of breaking. “Her reincarnation will be stronger.” More dust fell around your body and they- or he continued to dig down. “Heimdall said she was here… I have to try!”

“Perhaps had you thought to ask before you rained down battle upon Midgard, you would have found her!” The first voice boomed at the second.

The name “Sigyn” rings a bell somewhere deep at the back of your mind. They weren’t looking for you, but maybe they would get you out none the less. Your breath stuttered as you shifted. _I’m alive,_ you wanted to scream at them. _Help me!_ But you couldn’t find the energy to do so. Your head rolled to face the direction of the fresh air and your body mistakenly tried to go with it. A loud anguish cry of pain was the end result, along with the tearing of the skin around the wire jammed through your torso.

“Sigyn?” The first voice cried out, the digging moving faster and faster towards where your body lay. “ _Sigyn?!?_ ” Your breath was ragged and you were having a hard time seeing. “ _ **Sigyn!!**_ ” The air hole was getting bigger, you could tell and just as you started to drift off from the massive amount of pain was then that light from the outside world sprung into your air pocket, spilling over your wounded body. “Oh by the nines…” the body that belonged to the first voice seemed to have the air knocked out of it, the male's voice trembling. You probably looked far worse than you felt, if that was even possible at this point.

The light dimmed as someone stuck a hand through the opening that they had created. Pale fingers tentatively touch your forehead and you gasped involuntarily in pain when they came in contact with the gash at your temple, making them instantly retreat back into the daylight. Then the hands continue to pull out the surrounding rubble through the air gap. You can feel yourself slipping, you’ve lost too much blood to make it out alive.

“Breathe my love.” The first voice belongs to those pale hands. “You must breathe. Thor!” The dark haired man turns frantically. “Brother, I need your help!”

The remaining rubble is soon cleared from the hole, enough so that the first figure can easily slide in next to your damaged body. _If that’s Thor…It must mean that this is_ “Loki…” Your voice is weak, barely making it passed your lips and to his ears. His green eyes are filled with sorrow, but they light up slightly at the mention of his name on your lips.

“Yes my sweet.” With a weak smile, he runs a hand over your forehead and into your hair. You can feel the gashes closing on their own, knitting themselves back together at his touch. “I am here. I could not bare to lose you a second time.” Then he braces his hands on your shoulders and a pit of worry pools in what is left of your stomach. “I am sorry my love, this is going to hurt.” What happens next sends you into shock. The wall that had been pining you to the ground was suddenly torn from on top of you, taking the wire with it and yanking it from your body cavity.

You begin to scream in agony, then your eyes close as you slip into near unconsciousness and all is silent for a few seconds. Loki frantically keeps telling you that it will be alright, his own tears streaming down his face and dropping to mingle with yours on the dusty ground. His hands are moving as fast he can make them, working his magic to heal wounds that he can and cannot see. He murmurs one last shaky apology before he plunges his hands into the wound covering your torso. The scream leaving your throat burns like acid and you arch up, then it’s all black.

When you regain consciousness, you can’t place where you are at first. You remember that you were filing paperwork on the fourth floor, then there’s nothing. As your vision clears, a hospital room begins to take shape, machine motoring your every movement and a TV playing the news in the background. Then there’s a suddenly a black haired doctor by your side, calling your name.

“Do you know where you are?” He asks gently, his brow furrowing over his green eyes. You nod, only to regret it and put a hand to your head. “You were in an accident, can you remember what happened?”

You wrinkle your nose a bit, trying to drag something- anything from memory, but there’s nothing. “No… I’m sorry.”

The doctor smiles, but it’s a bit sad and doesn’t go much further than a small up turn of the corner of his lips. He doesn’t say much more, only telling you that there will be someone in shortly to check your vitals and bandages. Then he turns and takes his leave from the room. He seems somewhat familiar to you, but you can’t place him.

The tv is the only speech left in the room. _“Today in New York…”_

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcome!


End file.
